


Run Before You Walk, Crawl Before You Run

by Savanna (orphan_account)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Character Study, Nightmares, Other, Protective Steve, Repressed Memories, Steve Rogers Feels, Wakanda (Marvel), a good and satisfying ending? what is that lol, but dont think i wont allude to it, infinity war doesn't happen because well that sh-t hurted, scott is such a grandma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 14:11:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Savanna
Summary: +++Bucky cuts his hair.+++





	Run Before You Walk, Crawl Before You Run

**_“Steve?”_ **

 

“I’m sorry, it’s a bit of a mess,” the man says, watching where he walks as he ventures across the living room. “I had my daughter over, and, well, I’m Ant-Man.”

His two guests stare down at the floor which is covered in ants. There’s only room when they move out of the way of Scott’s feet. His guests look around at the scattered toys, untouched by the ants until Scott apparently orders them to clean the room. They watch in awe as ants pick up a creepy bunny doll along with other toys, and carry them up the winding stairs.

Scott gestures, then. “Feel free to sit down...The ants didn’t dirty anything, trust me.” Scott is then more than happy to go to the kitchen and make some tea and sandwiches. He hums as he does so, stops chopping tomatoes for a second to pat a dog-sized ant on the head. It then scurries up the stairs, shy about the new company.

When Scott comes back, he sets two plates of BLT’s in front of them along with the tea. He sets a cup of sugar cubes down. He then takes a seat in the chair adjacent to the couch. “...You look a lot different, Steve.” He glances over at his other guest, “You too. Uh what’s with the beards? I mean they look great on you guys, but it’s a big change.”

Bucky lets Steve answer, instead picks up the sandwich and makes sure there are no ants before he happily chows down. He drinks the tea too; he had gotten used to Wakandan drinks. It’s not like they didn’t have soda there, but Shuri had shown him a lot of her culture, tea-like drinks included. As Bucky thinks of her teasing him about the alcoholic drinks, he smiles despite the pain he feels from missing her.

When Bucky listens in to the conversation, Steve has more or less explained that the Wakandan people had seen the beards as a sign of respect. That, and the two had been too busy to worry about shaving. Bucky himself has been too busy for shaving ever since he was the winter soldier, actually.

The conversation continues, although Bucky missed most of it. Scott then slaps his knees abruptly. “Well, you can go settle in if you’d like. You’ll have to share a room- it’s payback for the two-years house arrest.” Scott winks. “I’ll clear the ants too just so there’s no trouble.” He points to the hallway, “Room’s that way.”

Scott goes to the kitchen counter. He picks up a strange black box and keys. He throws one of the key chains at Steve, “I’m off for vacation. Bye!” He waves and heads out the door.

There’s a moment of silence, a moment of staring at the door, before the two turn and look at each other.

“He’s not going on vacation.”

“...Definitely not.”

They take their bags of belongings to the room Scott had pointed at. It’s decent-sized, with separate beds and wardrobes. There’s a door that leads to the room’s own bathroom, Steve finds out when he opens it a crack.

Bucky claims the bed by the window as Steve’s distracted, tossing his bag onto the foot of it. He then flops down onto it, catching Steve’s attention. There’s just something so comforting about a mattress being under him, a thing from home he had actually sort of forgotten about.

Steve sets his bag down gently and begins to unpack right away. Bucky listens to him opening and closing the drawers. He looks away from the ceiling and over at Steve, watching him move around. It’s been a while since he hasn’t seen Steve in his Captain America suit, a while since he’s seen him wear normal clothes. The t-shirt, like always, is a little snug. Steve zips his almost empty bag up and sets it underneath his bed. He looks over then, and is surprised to see Bucky watching him.

“You aren’t going to unpack?”

Bucky glances away. “No. It’s only a week.” Bucky knows Steve sensed something in his voice, because he walks a little closer. Bucky crosses his arms, feels cool metal make itself known as it touches his warm skin. Steve walks closer, and Bucky glances to see him looking through the thin white curtains and out the window. His eyebrows are furrowed, and Bucky wonders what he’s thinking about. He always wonders; he doesn’t know him as well as he used to. “I’m going to take a nap,” Bucky announces as soon as Steve looks down at him. “Jet lag,” he lies.

Steve nods. “Alright. I’ll be out in the living room. Call if you need me.” Steve leaves and shuts the bedroom door behind him.

Bucky moves to put his backpack on the ground so he can stretch his legs. He crosses his arms as he lays on his back, and closes his eyes. He knows he won’t sleep, though, and isn’t sure if he wants to.

 

A lot has happened. Bucky feels like that’s an understatement, actually, but it’s the best he’s got. With everything that’s happened, Bucky feels a little weird around Steve. He feels like he can maybe, finally trust his mind- But, but he knows that doesn’t mean it’ll be the same as it was before. Bucky knows _he_ won’t be the same as before. Which ‘before’ is he even referring to, he wonders?

He isn’t the same, but Steve wants him to be. Bucky tries, and it’s gotten to the point where he isn’t _visibly_ trying, isn’t trying _too hard_. Some things come easy to him, like the sass he’s always held deep in him. Other things don’t come easy, like remembering some of the memories Steve loves to talk about. A painful one is Coney Island. Steve says ‘you remember? I threw up and everything’ and Bucky nods his head and laughs like he does.

But more than that, more than _all of that mess_ , a lot has happened recently. Bucky was introduced to Wakanda, to a king and princess, to a culture so different but so pleasant. He was there to recuperate, to recover, and to hide. He had been a bit weary at first, considering the king of the place had tried to kill him. Bucky still had war flashbacks of the black panther’s nails inches from his face.

But T’Challa had been kind and considerate, and then Bucky had met Shuri. She reminded him of himself, only she was fierce and brilliant. She had healed him and made him a new arm- one that didn’t hurt if he moved it a certain way or applied a lot of force on it. She had taken his circumstances into consideration, had known more about it than he did, had been every bit different from Hydra.

She had shown him her culture, had made so many jokes about him being the typical American White Male™, had not hesitated to put him to work, had made it known that she was a princess, and she had always smiled. She had really been a good friend, a good leader.

Bucky knows he should act that way with Steve, that he and Steve had been that way, had always jabbed and poked at each other while always continuing to smile. Bucky _wants_ to act that way, but it’s difficult when he still doesn’t feel like himself. It’s difficult when he can’t remember everything he had done as that person, everything he had experienced. There’s something about a Stark Expo, always there in the back of his mind, but the only thing he gets from it is memories of a metal hand crushing someone’s windpipe and smashing someone's nose. And Bucky knows who the someones are, knows who the hand belongs to.

 

“Bucky?” Steve calls.

Bucky opens his eyes, is surprised by the change of light in the room. He had been thinking for hours, he realizes, as he sits up and looks over. “Yeah?”

Steve opens the bedroom door further. “You mind if I shower?”

“Go ahead.” He stands, leaves to let Steve have his room.

Steve grabs his right arm, stops him. “Buck, I know the travel is rough. I know it’s daunting. Try not to worry too much. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

Bucky smiles. “I’m fine with running,” he says. He leaves, and walks to the living room. Steve left his sandwich untouched, so Bucky goes ahead and eats it before any ants crawl in to take it.

They’re travelling across the U.S., for several reasons. Steve wants to make an appearance at the Avengers compound or wherever Tony is nowadays. Bucky wants to see a certain town in Indiana, wants to stop by Virginia too. Steve wouldn’t mind seeing Brooklyn.

The truth is, they’ve lost their fathers and now they’re losing themselves. Bucky lost himself a long time ago, actually. He had briefly wondered if it was worth it, if leaving the safety of Wakanda was worth it to visit these places with the chance of not remembering who they are.

Bucky knows the Avengers’ fight messed with Steve real bad, knows he had given up ‘Captain America’. Part of Bucky wants Steve to remain that hero. Part of him wants him and Steve to just be regular people in a regular world. The chances of either happening are slim.

 

Bucky glances beside him and sees something poking out of the stack of magazines. He takes it out, holds it up. It’s a little disc with something red in the middle. He remembers something vague, something Scott had said quite a while ago. Bucky inspects it, glances at his empty teacup, looks back at the disc. He throws the disc at it, startled when the teacup shrinks instantly. It looks like it belongs in a dollhouse now.

“You’re going to get us in trouble. We can’t have Scott coming home to his favourite teacup set being shrunken.” Steve is smiling, leaning against the door frame, hair still damp from the shower. “It might be his daughter’s favourite actually. That would be bad.”

Bucky shrugs. “...I wonder if he buys her regular toys, or if he gets miniature ones from dollhouses and enlarges them.”

Steve laughs. “He’d save a lot of money.”

Bucky is silent for a moment, then smirks. “If only they had this technology back then. They’d just chuck a disc at you and it would make you a giant.”

“A thin, _weak_ giant,” Steve corrects. He’s still smiling, and he points over his shoulder. “There’s hot water left if you wanna clean up.”

Bucky thinks he probably needs to. How many jokes had Shuri made about him having greasy hair? Well, they weren’t even jokes, really.

Bucky nods, gets up and gets clean clothes from his bag. He hates how he has to wait for the water to heat up, that it isn’t just _ready_ like Wakandan showers, or at least the one he had used there anyway. The hot shower is relaxing, though, melts some pain from his back he didn’t know he had.

When he’s cleaned, dried, and dressed, Bucky takes a look in the slightly fogged mirror. He has a green shirt on, the cotton worn. He makes a mental note that he needs to go shopping for clothes, but at the moment he’s staring at the particular green color. It reminds him of something, a shirt he’s had before, an army under-shirt that he always purposely left unbuttoned. Bucky tries to remember what else he had worn, but he can’t. Probably the standard army pants and some long-lost dog tags.

Bucky remembers suddenly that his hair had been short and parted all nice- of course it had been, it was the army. He turns his head, looks at his long hair that he has yet to put in a bun. He glances at his beard, wonders how strange it would be to see himself babyfaced again.

Out of curiosity, Bucky opens the cabinet the mirror is on, notices a razor and scissors next to shaving cream and some prescription bottles. He kneels down and checks the cabinet under the sink, sees a pack of new razors and an electric razor tossed on top of cleaning supplies.

Bucky stands up straight, glances at his reflection, glances at the bathroom door. He can’t hear Steve, figures he’s still in the living room doing something- probably reading whatever books Scott has.

Bucky grabs a new razor, shaving cream, and scissors. He sets them on the white sink ledge, looks at them for a moment. He had thought about cutting his hair in the past, on particularly hot days or on those days with the old arm when the flowing hair was _just too much_ to handle. A big reason Bucky had kept the long hair was because it was a great start of a good disguise. The beard just happened naturally, he didn’t have time to shave.

He wonders why the image of him with short hair is so vivid in his mind as he takes up the scissors. He hesitates, then. He grabs his brush he had brought with him, combs his hair and rids any tangles. He picks up the scissors again and puts a good amount of hair between the blades.

_Snip!_

He wonders what Steve will think of it.

_Snip!_

Would he be upset or overjoyed?

_Snip!_

Shocked, obviously.

_Snip!_

Bucky tells himself it’s because it’s summertime and it’s hot out, but really he wants to be who he was back then. If that means short hair and no beard, then fine.

_Snip!_

He isn’t stupid though. He knows changing his hair won’t change him, but it might help just a tiny little bit.

He wants to look that person in the face, to see that person from so many years ago. He wants to know if there’s a resemblance beyond physical looks.

 

“Buck?” Steve calls. He comes near and knocks on the door. “You alright in there?”

Bucky hesitates, stops the scissors. “‘m fine,” he answers.

“Alright. You always take long showers,” Steve laughs. “No wonder everyone made you go last.”

Bucky remembers that, remembers complaining how the cold water ruined his beautiful skin. He had been such a brat, then, hadn’t he?

After he knows Steve has left, the scissors continue. He then starts with the razor, after trimming his beard with the scissors. Is it weird that he forgot what shaving cream felt like?

 

“Buck?” Steve calls again, audibly concerned. Shaving had taken nearly as long as cutting his hair, so Bucky understands. But, suddenly Bucky can’t move himself to walk out that bathroom door. He doesn’t know what Steve will think, worries Steve will see right through him and realize it as an attempt to be that person again. “Hey, are you okay? Can I come in?”

Bucky makes himself walk forward and open the bathroom door abruptly. He opens it wide, knowing Steve can see the mess in the sink behind him.

Steve stares, eyes flicking between his short hair and shaved face. Bucky had tried his best at making the haircut decent, had parted it on the left like before, hadn’t added so much volume as back then. He wonders if his green shirt sparks a memory for Steve like it had with him, wonders if his arm ruins the picture.

Steve opens his mouth but he can’t speak right away. “...Bucky?”

Bucky hates but loves the way Steve says his name right then. He knows he looks nervous, shrugs and tries to smile. He can’t say anything, doesn’t know what to say, doesn't know if an explanation would matter.

He doesn’t expect Steve to rush forward and hug him, suddenly. Steve hugs him tightly, perhaps not knowing his own strength. His beard tickles Bucky’s ear, making Bucky chuckle. He returns the hug, patting him on the back. “Do you like it?” He asks quietly.

Steve pulls away from the hug to meet his gaze. “Does this mean I have to shave mine too?” He asks with a grin.

Bucky smiles wide, and warmth blossoms in his chest.

 

Things don’t go so well that night. They enjoyed dinner and TV, recovered surprisingly quickly from seeing the dog-sized ant appear out of nowhere- they knew it must be his daughter’s pet or something. They both go to bed early, Steve falling asleep first.

Bucky looks out his window for a long time, able to see the moon. He watches it as if he expects it to move until he can no longer keep his eyes open.

He has a nightmare, something strange, something he hasn’t seen before. He’s in Wakanda, near his tent by the river, standing and watching the sun set. It suddenly gets cold, and he’s turning around at a sudden noise, terrified. There’s Steve, in his battle gear, and he looks so pained. Bucky goes to ask why, but he only calls out Steve’s name before collapsing like someone kicked his legs out from under him. It feels like the air is knocked out of him. He can’t see Steve, he panics, he’s cold and he can’t feel his legs or arm, can’t feel much of anything but fear, and he wants to call out to Steve again but he can’t talk, and then it’s too late, and he’s being swallowed up by pure cold and darkness.

Bucky is awake before he can see what happens after that; he gets pulled out of the nightmare by strong hands on his shoulders, shaking him. Bucky looks up, disoriented, and sees that Steve is the one who woke him up. Steve looks concerned, and sounds like it when he asks, “You with me? Bucky? You alright?”

Bucky nods quickly, not wanting to have alarmed him. “...Did I talk in my sleep or something?” he mumbles, perfectly aware that he’s done it before.

Steve nods. “You called out to me. You looked frightened.” He sits down on the edge of the bed, wrings his hands together worriedly. He doesn’t ask, but it shows on his face that he wants to know what the dream was about.

Bucky sighs and sits up. He wonders how embarrassing his cry was when calling for him, but he explains the dream to him anyway. Bucky is visibly confused by it, just as Steve is. In the end, Bucky can only shrug.

Steve frowns, looks personally hurt by what he’s heard. “What do you think it means?”

“...I have no idea.”

It’s obvious, actually, what it means. Bucky doesn’t want to lose Steve, doesn’t want to lose himself either, even his current self. He knows this, feels it.

The cold, the dark. Cold snow melting on his clothes as he’s tied up in total darkness. The inability to breathe, to speak, to scream for his friend to help him. Bucky understands.

Steve sighs and rubs Bucky’s back. “I won’t leave you, you know. You called out to me in your dream, I can only guess why but...I’m never leaving you.” He smiles a little, but it’s sad. “You’re stuck with me ‘til the end of the line.”

The words ring in Bucky’s ears. He’s heard them before, he’s _said_ them before. Bucky tries to smile too. “‘til the end of the line, pal...” He feels tired again, exhausted actually, from the dream no doubt.

Steve notices and lets him get his rest, promising to be there in case there’s more nightmares to follow.

 

There aren’t any more that night. The next morning, Steve is surprised by seeing Bucky with short hair and no beard, but he remembers the day before quickly and smiles. Makes a joke, even, elbows Bucky’s side as he walks by to get them something to drink and eat.

They have to go out today, have to buy necessities and clothes that’ll disguise them. Bucky suggests Steve get glasses, but Steve says ‘no, for now’ and gets a new jacket. Bucky gets himself new shirts and a baseball cap, and some plums just because.

They’re careful, but Bucky finds himself having fun, and it feels _so_ nice not having a beard or man-bun in the awful heat. They’re having a nice conversation when they get back to Scott’s place, enjoy a nice lunch since Scott seemed to have made them enough food to last a month. Towards evening, they have a more serious talk about what they’re going to do next.

Bucky has a dream that night that he’s wearing Steve’s suit, one of the first ones that is incredibly bright red white and blue. He’s somewhere he can’t recognize, a grassy plain, until he walks over a hill and sees a graveyard. Then he knows, understands, and he feels like the world is weighted on his shoulders.

He wakes up by himself, checks the digital clock on one of the dressers and sees that it’s only three in the morning. He looks over, figures that Steve is asleep. He doesn’t want to wake him, so he shuts his eyes and tries to sleep again.

“...Bucky...” he suddenly hears, hushed and pleading. Bucky looks over, peers in the dark until his eyes adjust and he can see Steve’s face. Steve looks stressed, maybe scared. He’s having nightmares too.

Bucky stays up, waits in case he’ll need to wake Steve and comfort him. It happens about ten minutes later, and Bucky gets up and shakes Steve by the shoulders. “Are you okay, Steve? You with me?”

 Steve quickly nods, and pulls him in for a hug.

 

Their planned week there at Scott’s is shortened by a day, but neither party minds as Scott came back from ‘vacation’ early anyway. Bucky apologizes for the shrunk teacup, thanks him as does Steve, and advises him to get the giant ant a collar and leash.

After they depart, the two head towards the airport. There’s another safehouse, a few states away, that they’re going to stop at. As they wait there and eventually get their seats on the plane, Bucky feels hope, like each safehouse will lead to that person, will lead to who he once was. Bucky has the feeling that Steve holds the same hope for himself, that he’ll find that scrawny kid that would fight bullies in alleyways all day.

Maybe they will find the old them. Maybe they’ll become like them again.

Maybe they’ll become better.

  



End file.
